


Eden

by PoisonKisses



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Park Orphans, Utopia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonKisses/pseuds/PoisonKisses
Summary: Betrayed, Poison Ivy withdraws from the world of men.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter I: Prologue

Blood.

She hated blood. Hated how sticky it was, how syrupy, how it spattered, and yet, given her lifestyle and the choices she’d made over the years, blood seemed inescapable to her. Inevitable. 

She was close enough to Ivy she could imagine she was actually hearing the blood drip from the woman’s obliterated nose to plop plop plop down into the pool mixed with rainwater next to her cheek. More likely, she was hearing that slow falling rain on the hard material of her cowl, but it was a visceral image anyway. 

She’d never imagined Ivy’s blood to look like that—red and all too human—always imagined Ivy would drip acidic ichor, like a Xenomorph from Alien, or possibly straight up sap, like maple syrup oozing from the bark of a tree.

But no, Ivy’s face was a ruin, the blood dropping into the rainwater with a steady…staccato…rhythm.

They’d hit her fast and hard. Bruce was very clear about the danger—the toxin Ivy was carrying was one of the most deadly poisons on Earth. In the diluted form she was planning to spread via the reservoir, it would have killed millions. Dead in seconds of ingesting—do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. He’d said there was every chance she was carrying a concentrated solution, one that could kill the lot of them in seconds if she had time to deploy it. Hit her fast and hard, he’d said.

The plan was simple. Ivy only had one real weakness: Harley Quinn. They’d talked Harley into getting close, surprising her, distracting her. She was amazed at how easily the insipid little clown girl agreed. She really was an eager to please little thing. She’d betrayed Ivy with the merest pat on the head from Batman and an agreement to work on his little team of expendable ‘heroes,’ his Outsiders, his own personal Suicide Squad. 

Ivy was in the square, a long, breezey skirt and wedge heels, holding a wide-brimmed hat in one hand to let the slow, warm, spring rain fall on her luxurious hair, and she’d been perusing a selection of ‘human statues’ on the steps of the Banks building when Harley ran up to her.

She’d seen the surprise, registered her shock as Harley hugged her, the smile breaking out on her beautiful face, when Cass and Dick struck. There was every possibility the most dangerous poison Batman had ever seen was in Ivy’s shapeless bag slung over her shoulder. They couldn’t risk it.

Cass went low. The girl was a living weapon, and even she was a little nervous around the girl. Her fists and feet would have been enough, but she’d chosen a simple pair of nunchaku, ‘Bruce Lee eat your heart out,’ as Harley had said. Blunt force was less likely to shed blood, and they all knew how dangerous Ivy’s bodily fluids were. If Cass was a weapon, Ivy was a weapon of mass destruction in a beautiful package.  
Dick went high, his was the first strike, a shot right between the eyes with an escrima stick. It’d crumpled Ivy’s nose, stunned her, staggered her back, and Cass’s whirling weapon dropped her on her bottom. The two had worked the woman over, heavy thuds, breaking bones. To her credit, other than a grunt or two, Ivy made no sound. She absorbed most of it, even tried to rise at one point, but the rest of them had clustered around her by then. Batgirl had tasered her—voltage that would kill a human making Ivy’s body twitch. Catwoman, Selina Kyle, hadn’t done anything but watch, a sick look on her face.

She’d watched it all through the scope of the high powered sniper rifle, ready and willing to put a depleted uranium round through Ivy’s skull if she even looked like she was ready to deploy the toxin. Batman had been short with her, with a parting comment. “I know you’re capable of this. You’ve put down a super villain before.” 

It was a rarity for the small army of Batman associated vigilantes to work together in such a number, in the relative open. By the time Robin snapped a meta suppression collar around the crumpled and broken woman’s neck, the boy wearing a thick, rubber, chemical resistant version of his normal costume for just this purpose, they’d drawn a crowd.

Harley had told the woman, “Just stay down, Red.”

She’d broken down the rifle and joined the rest, the group in a ragged semi circle around the eco-terrorist.

“Is it in there?” Batman’s rough, modulated voice could have come from a robot.

Batgirl was pawing through the woman’s bag. It was cloth, ragged from loving use, with a smiling sunflower stitched on the side. Ivy had a small wallet, makeup, her cell phone, a book (a well-read copy of Anne Rice’s The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty.) No toxin.

She heard a popping noise, and glancing down, could see Ivy’s wounds closing, hear her nose popping back into place. Batman stalked over and grabbed the woman’s upper arm, hauling her to a sitting position.

“Where’s the toxin, Ivy?” He loomed over her like some sort of demon. At some point, someone had cuffed Ivy as well, and she struggled with her wrists tightly behind her back.

She glared up at him. “What toxin?”

“We know about the toxin you’re working on, Ivy. We found the secret lab, the notes…” Batigirl’s voice sounded shaky.

“What secret lab?” Ivy asked. She looked furious but also…confused.

It shocked her because it was out of character, but Batman was wound tighter than she’d ever seen him, and he backhanded Ivy. The small crowd that had gathered gave a ragged cheer. Someone yelled, “Hit that bitch again, Batman!”

Selina blurted, “BRUCE!” in shock. There was horror on her pretty features. Batgirl looked uncomfortable. Harley looked uncertain.

“I don’t have time to play your games, Ivy. Where is the toxin?” he was menacing. She was unphased.

She glared at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Batman, but by all means, keep hitting me.”

Nightwing, ever the performer, was playing the crowd now. “Don’t worry folks, crazy pants here is going back to Arkham for a loooong time!”

More cheers. “Marry me, Nightwing!” a girl from the crowd yelled.

Damian was close. “Batman, police are two minutes out.” His voice clipped and professional. He was fourteen and sounded like a special forces veteran to her.

“Alright, everyone vanish. Spread pattern four. Leave her for Gordon.” Batman gave orders easily.

Steph, who looked downright ill, and Batgirl got on either side of the woman, bracing her back against a wall. Ivy’s wounds were gone, now. The blood staining her white blouse pink the only sign she’d been injured. 

Someone in the crowd had good aim. A thrown soda splattered Ivy center mass, drenching her in Pepsi. A shouted “Suck on this!” accompanying it. The crowd laughed. “I got something she can suck on!” Another voice. More laughter.  
Ivy’s eyes were green hatred.

The others were swinging away, ziplines and jump assists.

Harley’s big grin had faded. “I’m sorry, Red, it hadda be done.” She couldn’t meet Ivy’s stare, and then she let Nightwing zipline her away.

Batgirl said, “You were doing so well, why’d you do it, Pam?” Ivy gave her no answer, and then Babs left.

Selina just muttered, “I’m sorry, Pammie,” and then she was gone.

Kate perched above the square as the cops picked up the supervillain and perp-walked her to the a car. More cheers from the crowd, more thrown sodas and snack food. The cops laughed. The good guys won. For some reason, she didn’t feel like celebrating.

***

Batgirl struggled to keep up. Catwoman was going full tilt, a solid sprint, and as good as Barbara was, Selina knew Gotham better than anyone. She made last minute jumps and catches look as easy as strolling to her kitchen, and more and more Barbara had to depend on her gliding cape. Finally, as they approached the East End, she screamed, “SELINA, WAIT UP.”

Catwoman pulled up, shoulders rising and falling as she breathed heavily, back to Barbara.

“Selina?” she managed.

The other woman turned, lifting her goggles up as she did. She was crying.

“You saw it too, right? You saw the look on her face?” 

Barbara squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “I saw.”

“She had no idea what we were talking about, Babs. None.”

“I couldn’t understand why she’d help us save Gotham a month ago and then decide to kill us all.” Barbara observed, leaning against a concrete wall. “It was all—”

“Too easy.” Selina finished. “We were set up. She was set up. And because Bruce can’t trust any of his ‘villains’ motives if they try to change, he fell for it like a complete rookie.”

“Well, bright side, she’ll finally get some help at—”

“That implies she needs help, and we both know she won’t get it at Arkham.” Selina pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s such a cluster. She has epic trust issues anyway, this will set her back years.”

“It’s out of our hands now.” Barbara sighed.

“I think I need a drink,” Selina grumbled, sitting down on the edge of the building.

They sat for a few minutes, lost in thought and listening to the rain fall, water gurgling in the storm drains.

Barbara suddenly tensed, focusing on the police band from her earpiece. “Selina.”

Selina glanced up, alerted at the tone.

“She escaped. They just…they just found the car. Officers down—non-lethal poison.”

Selina fought a grin. “Twenty minutes is a record, even for her…”

“Batman…he’s calling for us to lock down the city. Bridges, airport.”

Selina frowned. “Babs, I know where she’ll go.”

They didn’t need to say anymore, both women jumping to their feet, and Barbara fell into step behind the nimble thief as they raced to Ivy’s actual lab.

***

They didn’t beat her there—a fact that was painfully obvious when Selina led her downstairs from a secret door hidden in a gardening shed in Robinson Park. The staircase was formed concrete—an access to a former nuclear bomb shelter built in the 60s. 

The main chamber was cavernous, and rows and rows of meticulously tended plants—each with their own controlled environmental chamber—sat drinking up light from UV lamps overhead. Well, they had been. They were off now, and she and Selina had been snatched by lightning fast vines as soon as their feet had touched the floor. 

Barbara struggled, but the vine winding around her body was like a steel cable, and the more she wriggled, the more she could feel it tightening. She could see Selina desperately trying to get free as well, and having about as much luck.

Ivy hadn’t spoken. She’d changed into a long green sheath dress and knee-high heeled boots. Her damp hair hung it wet ringlets on her shoulders and down her back. There was tension in her back and shoulders as she methodically downloaded her hard drives and carefully stowed samples into her two rolling suitcases.

“Ivy,” Selina started, “Listen, talk to me, let me explain what happened.” Frigid silence. 

“Pam,” Barbara tried. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but please, talk to us. We’re your friends.” Nothing.

She was hopelessly caught, completely entangled now. And Selina had given up struggling or trying to communicate, instead watching Ivy, warily.

Ivy finished by flicking some switches, and then she piled her luggage up and walked past them to the stairs. Her face was chiseled from ice, her eyes hard chips of jade. She paused at the first step.

“I trusted you two. I never suffered the illusion we were friends, but I at least thought we understood one another.”

“Pam,” Selina started.

“Don’t.” Ivy’s voice held warning and she turned back to them. “You all were so quick to believe I want to kill you. Clearly, I’m not, nor will I ever be, accepted by you.” Barbara started to protest, but Ivy’s look stilled her. “You’re all going to die. You’ll choke and gasp on your own filth and poison. All of you.”

“Because of the friendship I thought we had, I’m giving you two a two minute window to get out of my lab. Then it will be destroyed. The days of my work helping you and your species are over.”

She walked to the base of the stairs and looked back one last time. “I’m leaving. I won’t be back. Don’t come looking for me. I’ll kill you on sight.” Then she ascended the stairs.

It was the last time Babs would ever see her.

The vines released them, and they’d just made it up the stairs when the fireblast consumed the lab and everything in it.


	2. Terminal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad news.
> 
> The search is on.

Chapter 2: Terminal  
“I’m dying.”  
Without missing a beat, Lois Lane took a bite of creamy alfredo and reached for her wine. Clark stared at his plate, not daring to look up, but instead becoming studiously fascinated with the noodles swimming in meat sauce. Real meat, actually, at four hundred a pound, only people with Bruce Wayne’s bank account could afford actual beef these days, and Clark, being Clark, was guilty even being in a restaurant this exclusive. But, it was their annual couples meal, at least a token effort to maintain the friendship between Superman and Batman, or at least, the man who’d once been Superman and the man who’d passed the mantle of Batman on. They were supposed to be close—they’d saved the world together, founded the Justice League together along with Wonder Woman, Princess Diana of the Amazons, a diplomatic persona non grata to the North American league government, which was why she wasn’t present. 

Selina missed her. She’d served as a buffer between the two men and their differences. Bruce and Clark respected one another, but the dissimilarities were stark. Her husband was…prickly…at the best of times. His expression was unreadable, as it often was, to anyone that hadn’t been married him to the tune of twenty years. His face was grim, brows drawn together, that line between them as deep as the Mariana trench.

Selina took a drink to give herself a moment to think. Lois continued as she finished chewing.

“Specifically, I have a glioblastoma. It’s very malignant and highly resistant to any treatments. Dr. Thomas’s next plan is a risky, invasive surgery in an attempt to excise it. Even if it’s successful, it only prolongs my 3 month prognosis to 18 months. My Clark,” and she laid a hand on his beefy arm, “is my rock here, but for all his power there’s nothing to be done, and he’s not handling it well.” She smiled, a hint of the warm smile she’d favored Selina with at her wedding so long ago, only then Lois’s hair was jet black, rather than the iron grey it was now. Lois had always taken pride in becoming older, rather than fight it every step of the way as Selina had done.

Selina glanced at Bruce, who was glowering. Clark put a hand over Lois’s on his arm and smiled at her.

“I’m so sorry, Lois.” Selina finally spoke, her voice cracking, and she took another sip of red wine. It was real wine, from real grapes—grown in a greenhouse where quality could be controlled. No place on Earth was capable of growing quality wine grapes these days. “Three months?”

“Yes.” Lois replied, fishing another noodle out, slathering it in sauce, and then taking another bite. “Though, the final four to six weeks will likely be very low in terms of quality of life. The doctor tells me the tumor will cause personality changes, loss of vision, and possibly slurred speech.”

“Is there anything…you know…we could do? Zatanna—” she let the suggestion hang in the air. Zatanna was long gone, having been consumed by the Spirt of Nabu and was now eternally Dr. Fate. Maybe they could reason with the entity?

“Even under the best of circumstances, it’s incredibly risky to involve magic when trying to heal someone,” Bruce muttered. Magic always requires a price, and it comes threefold.

“And there’s no way I’m allowing anyone to pay that price.” Lois’s voice was as sharp as ever, her face cut from granite. “Clark and I have already had this discussion.” Lois poured herself another glass. The bottle was a 2017 vintage, from before the Atlantean War, and went for two grand a bottle. Normally, she’d have felt guilty drinking a bottle of wine that was more than a typical working family in Lex’s American League made a year, but she needed the sweet sting of the booze right now.

Lois was serene. “I’ve already come to terms with it. Everyone dies, eventually. I’ve lived a good life. I’ve been an intrepid girl reporter, married a walking miracle, had three children. I can’t complain.”

Selina was crying before the dinner was over. Clark did too. They chatted about old times, old friends long gone. They laughed too. 

They had to cut it short, because Lois’s head was starting to hurt her to distraction. They said their goodbyes, Selina hugging her close, burying her face in Lois’s hair and trying to remember the feel of the other woman, the smell of her Chanel perfume. She put on her breathing mask for the walk to the car, turned on the fashionable mini Oxygen tank in her clutch in order to avoid the toxic reek of what passed as Gotham’s atmosphere, and took one last look at her friend—a friend she’d never see alive again.

Bruce was mercifully quiet on the drive home. The car auto pathed them, and he sat in the back seat with her, putting a brawny arm around her shoulders and letting her lay her head on his shoulder. When they arrived back at the manor, the car parked itself in the garage and as they entered the dark, quiet mansion, he finally spoke.

“Darling, I’ll be late tonight. I need to spend a little time in the cave.”

He did that sometimes, and she didn’t begrudge him. He may have passed the mantle on, but he still managed Batman. Had managed Dick as the Dark Knight, was managing Damian now. He couldn’t just walk away, no matter what the law said about costumed vigilantes in this brave new world. She loved him for it. She loved him in spite of it. She pecked him on the cheek. 

“Don’t be too long. I’d better not wake up tomorrow with not big warm pillow to spoon me.”

He smiled, mostly with his mouth, but there was a warmth in his eyes she doubted anyone on Earth, with the possible exception of Alfred Pennyworth, God rest him, had seen. “That depends if you sleep in til one.”

“I don’t do that anymore, mostly.”

She went through her evening rituals. Shower. Makeup remover, moisturizer. Body lotion. She set the mansion air purifiers to max and turned the air conditioning low—a luxury the less fortunate didn’t have. No power usage beyond simple lighting allowed after eleven PM in Gotham. She read for a bit, then folded her reading glasses up and turned out the light.

She slept fitfully, and when she awoke from some shapeless dream and saw it had crept up to three in the morning, still no Bruce, she got up. Sighed. Peed. Then slipped a gown over her filmy little negligee (she and Bruce hadn’t been particularly active in recent years, but something about Lois’s death had gotten to her, and she’d been hoping to get him to take one of those little pills and make love to her) and headed downstairs to the cave access.

The house was quiet. She and Bruce were the only two permanent residents now. Damian preferred a small, spartan apartment in the city, overlooking the Industrial Park that’d once been Robinson. His personal Batcave was a private underground garage, the building leased by several different dummy corporations—controlled by him--from Wayne Enterprises. Helena lived in the narrows, venturing out as her own version of Catwoman. Unlike Selina, she preferred to keep as low a profile as possible, and most people were unaware there even WAS a Catwoman anymore.

North American League law was very clear—unlicensed costumed vigilantes were illegal and kill on sight for the private police force, Gotham Security Inc. GSI troopers had more in common with military special forces than they did police officers from before the War. 

She was proud of Helena, proud of the daughter she’d rediscovered. The girl was quick-witted and talented, and she probably did more for the downtrodden than Damian’s version of Batman. 

Since Alfred’s death a few years back and most of the younger members of Batman’s circle pairing off and settling down, the house remained quiet, but homey. There were little touches all over that reminded her of the family, and she was comforted here. Even now, it still felt like Alfred.

She stopped in the kitchen long enough to grab a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine and slipped into the lift down. 

The cave was mostly dark, Bruce usually didn’t light up the whole thing when he was just working at the computer. She approached him cautiously as he hunched over the computer screen, scrolling through images with a track ball. There were several white evidence boxes piled around him, and he leaned back in his chair as she wordlessly set the glasses down and popped the cork.

“Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to stay up so late.”

She smiled and handed him a glass. “It’s alright. If I was worried about late nights I wouldn’t have married you. What are you working on, anyway?” She glanced at the screen—burned papers, melted glassware, bits and pieces of trash. It tickled something in the back of her mind.

“You’re not going to like it,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want you involved.”

She looked closer. In focus on the main scream was a sheet of computer printout, words and numbers that didn’t go together in any meaningful way for her, but she recognized DNA and chemical formulae written in—

No.

She hadn’t seen it over twenty years. Precise, printed block letters and numbers. Flowing, beautiful feminine script for handwriting. She could even hear that soft, breathey voice, talking to her like a student in a class. “Precision is important, Selina. My writing must be crystal clear. Even a tiny error due to faulty transcription could prove fatal. My math is always right, Selina, never forget that.”

Ivy.

“Bruce, what are you doing?” Her voice was steady. She was proud of that. After the incident—after they’d discovered the Joker and the Riddler’s plan—she’d insisted they bury what happened. What she was culpable for.

To his credit, Bruce looked uncomfortable. “I told you…you wouldn’t like it.”

“Bruce.” He almost flinched. Then he sighed.

“We didn’t get much from the explosion. I documented everything I found, just like I always do. Scraps. Bits and pieces. She was so far ahead of science even then. Hell,” he rubbed a hand over his face, scratching at his stubble, “even then she was a couple of decades ahead of us now. When Lois was talking I remembered seeing something….took me a couple of hours to find it.”

“What did you find?” Selina’s voice didn’t crack. She was trying not to think, trying not to remember.

“What you’re looking at is a piece of DNA. I have no idea why she had it, but it’s…it’s a snapshot of a strand of irregular human brain tissue. A piece of brain with glioblastoma. And this?” He tapped a cut off piece of formula, the rest burned away in the fire.

Bruce turned to look at her.

“I think this is an enzyme meant to combat it. I think it’s…” He paused again, searching her face.

“A cure.” She quietly said.

“I can’t be sure. Selina, I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, but…”

“It is. I’d bet my kitty ears, Bruce. God.” She wiped at her eyes.

***

_“Jesus, Ivy. Don’t you have any kind of a heart?”_

_“My heart works just fine, unlike yours, Selina.” The beautiful redhead arched a perfect eyebrow. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there are better uses of my time than trying to stop some gang war. I don’t care, let them kill each other.”_

_“I dunno, kitty, I’m not feelin’ steppin’ inta the middle of all that either.”_

_She whirled on Harley. “Use your brain here, Harls. Innocent people will get caught in the crossfire.”_

_“And if I get involved, I will only escalate things. Chances are, the so-called heroes will simply blame us if we try to help, no thank you. Now, I’m going to my lab. Call me if something important comes up. Not before.” She rolled her eyes and flounced away, leaving Selina glaring._

_“Fucking bitch, I swear to God.” She sat heavily. Stepping into that gang war without Ivy’s heavy support was daunting._

_“She’s not, ya know.” Harley sat next to her, looking miserable. She wanted them all to be one big happy family and tended to get upset when she and Ivy tied up in an argument._

_“Not what?”_

_“A bitch. And she has a heart.”_

_Harley jumping to Ivy’s defense, what else was new? “What are you on about, Harls?”_

_“Look, she helps people, she’s just not like, the Justice League or somethin’, she doesn’t look for credit.”_

_Selina glared at the clown girl. “Really? In what way does she help people? Name one.”_

_Harley glanced at the closed door to Ivy’s lab._

_“Ok, you can’t tell. Don’t ever bring it up, kay?”_

_“Harley…” Selina’s voice must’ve held enough warning to get the clown girl to pay attention._

_“Ok, look. Once a year, she sneaks into Mercy, to the kid’s ward, finds the sickest kid, and cures ‘em. Leukemia. MS. Cerebral palsy. Doesn’t matter.”_

_“Wait, you’re saying Ivy can cure cancer?” Selina was floored, but as she wrestled with the idea, realized how obvious it was. Ivy’d done absolute miracles with hybrid plants before._

_“Yeah, but she only does one at a time. I asked her why she didn’t just cure ‘em all, and she said there wasn’t a one size fits all, she needed ta do them one at a time, an’ curing people was only treatin’ the symptoms, not the disease. She hadda save the world first.”_

***

She rarely got texts from Bruce. Not after passing the mantle on. So when her phone buzzed at 7 am, Barbara Gordon-Fox was amazed to see it was from him.

_Very important. Come to manor today please_

Luke grunted as she buried back under the blankets and put her arms around him. “Who was it, babe?” he managed, after a second or two.

“Bruce. Needs me to come over today.” Her voice was muffled by the back of his neck.

“Hrmph.”

Her little Lexcorp Laser was a small, electric car and didn’t handle that well outside of the city, but the permit for it was cheap, and it carried a 6 hour charge on thirty minutes of plug in time. As head of Computer R and D at Wayne Enterprises, she probably could’ve afforded something more extravagant, possibly even a liquid fuel vehicle, but she was comfortable in it and liked driving manual outside of the city.

It didn’t hurt that she was married to the boss.

Alexis was in school, and little Jason was at daycare. As she zipped down the winding road to Wayne Manor, she was secretly a little relieved to get away from the office and the kids. It’d been a while.

With the Wayne airlock and sealed garage, she didn’t need to wear her rebreather, so once parked, she practically skipped into the house.

“Knock, knock,” she sang out as she found Selina in the parlor, and then was engulfed in a hug. Selina smelled like expensive perfume…the woman was always poised. Approaching 50, she was still handsome. Tall, lithe, with perfectly tousled hair and flawless makeup, Barbara didn’t really know how she did it.

“My God, I don’t remember the last time I saw you, darling.” Selina was grinning from ear to ear. “You are a stranger these days. Those days are coming to an end, you hear me?”

“I know it feels like forever. Just been, yknow, busy,” she brushed hair behind her ear, instantly feeling like a kid in her first Batgirl suit, chasing the elusive cat burglar of Gotham.

“Well, you’re here now. Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

Babs shook her head. “No, I’m fine, more curious than anything. Where’s Bruce?”

“In the Cave. Babs, this is heavy. Like emotionally. Brace yourself.” Selina’s hand on her arm suddenly felt heavy.

“You’ll see.”

She did.

Babs sat in front of the Batcomputer, all the information about Poison Ivy, Pamela Lilian Ivy, they’d gathered in the years since she vanished on screen.

It was very little. Mostly conjecture, possible sightings. That knockoff Ivy that had popped up in Gotham a few years back—a self-styled psycho who’d tried to poison the Gotham stock exchange. She’d killed a few kids, destroyed a lot of property, and then they’d found her lair, the fake Ivy dead, apparently having accidentally poisoned herself. None of them were convinced.

But other than that, Ivy’d made good on her promise to disappear. The last confirmed time she’d appeared was on a security camera in Gotham International airport, a blurry image of the beautiful redhead boarding a flight to Denver—and that was it. No corresponding video of her exiting the plane because someone had erased the footage.

No further sightings, no hits on her known aliases. Poison Ivy vanished, and stayed vanished.

Still, Babs agreed to help Bruce find her. If there was even a chance Ivy could save Lois Lane, they had to try.

She’d had an idea, written a search algorithm, and was lost in her thoughts about the beautiful, complicated supervillainess. Ivy had fought her, helped her save Gotham, taken down villains with her, been on a team with her, fought her team. She’d never been certain about where she stood with the woman. Until that night, when Ivy’d walked out, and told them she’d kill them on sight, with nothing but contempt, hurt, and rage in her eyes. Babs believed her. When the computer dinged and she had her results, she immediately called Bruce and Selina in.

Bruce was nodding slowly. “I recognize some of these names, Barbara, but walk me through this. Selina was quiet but watchful.

Babs cleared her throat. “Ok. All of these names are attached to Ivy. The first cluster were orphans in the park when Gotham was quarantined after the big quake.” She highlighted a series of names. “One by one over the last twenty years, they’ve vanished. Not suddenly, they gave notices at work, booked plane tickets, sold property, left forwarding addresses, and then they just fell off the grid. All of them were traceable to a destination. Hawaii.”

You think Ivy is there? Bringing her orphans back to her?” Selina asked.

“Not exactly. After the initial cluster, there were clusters of close families of those orphans. Mothers, children, siblings. They also arrived in Hawaii and disappeared.”

Bruce spoke up. “Ivy once created an island and populated it with her plants. It’s possible she tried it again.”

Babs nodded. The Pacific Ocean was huge and largely dead after the last few years of die-offs due to pollution, climate change, and the War with Atlantis. “Theoretically, if Ivy were to do that again, we could pinpoint the creation of a new Island full of jungle, but I’ve got the Batcomputer pinging every satellite available looking for new growth and so far, nothing.”

Bruce brooded for a few moments while Selina refreshed her coffee. 

“I think we may have to bring in someone else, then. There’s only one person I know who might be able to tell us where,” he scanned over her list of names, “two hundred fifteen people vanished to.”

Babs glanced at the screen, then back at him.

“King Arthur of Atlantis. Aquaman.”


	3. Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batwoman and Batgirl join the search for Ivy
> 
> Mera of Atlantis provides a clue.
> 
> Selina visits Harley

_Batwoman hung in the vines, bonelessly, helpless. Her head lolled on her neck, and her moans were weak, almost sobs, as she writhed sensuously, back arching, as yet another wave of orgasms crashed through her. Selina paused for a moment, licking her lips and feeling delicious little flickers of heat at the sight. It was hard not to be aroused._

_Ivy'd stripped most of the vigilante's outfit off and pieces of armor and her utility belt lay scattered around. Ivy was close, hand buried in the underarmor bodysuit Batwoman typically wore, fingers working inside the other woman with deft, practiced skill. She was face to face, nose to nose with Kate, gazing into her eyes and breathing into her moans encouragement. "Yesssss, that's it my darling. Cum for Ivy again." Her free hand was fisted in the other woman's actual hair, the wig tossed aside as well, supporting her head. Kate tried to resist, and Selina had to give her credit for even attempting to deny the seductive red-head._

_"N-no...Ivy, you have to...nnnnnnn...have to....stop," she managed, but she lost control of her voice and moaned again, her forehead dropping to rest on Ivy's shoulder as another orgasm began to build._

_"No, my love. I won't stop." Ivy's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, sibilant in her ear. "Come with us, Kate. Tell Batman to piss off. Be a Siren. Be with us. Be with me." As she spoke, she lifted Kate's head to look in her eyes, imploring her._

_Kate's mouth worked helplessly, the red lipstick she wore as Batwoman kissed off. "I...I..." she looked like she was nearing tears, and then she squeezed her eyes shut. "...can't."_

_Ivy sighed. "Very well, then I'll just fuck you some more." Selina gulped, knew poor Kate was in deep, when Harley materialized next to her, a sack of cash thrown over her shoulder that Nightwing would have struggled with._

_"Woah, mama!" she cried out, gleeful. Selina wasn't entirely sure how Harley and Ivy worked, but had never sensed any jealousy between them, at least other than Ivy's hatred of the Joker. "Kitty, yer gonna lose yer title of primary bat-fucker if this keeps up!"_

_Selina snapped herself out of it, rolled her eyes at Harley, then called out, "Yo! Ivy, we gotta hit the road before the GCPD is up our asses!"_

_Ivy called back, "Oh, I'll just be a minute!" Her voice was lilting with amusement and husky with her own desire._

_"Now, green bean, or you'll be wearing Arkham orange!"_

_"FINE." She kissed Kate, long and hard. Selina heard her whisper, "Until next time, darling. Dream about me."_

_Kate managed to gasp, "Ivy, you guys....have to stop...turn self...in," but then she trailed off, falling asleep. Ivy started toward them, hips swaying dramatically, sucking her fingers clean. Her eyes were bright and she was smiling._

_"She followed me home, girls, can I keep her?" She grinned, eyes sparkling._

_"No, cuz I'll just have ta clean up after 'er, Daffodil." Harley wagged her finger._

_"Awww, Selina gets a bat plaything, why not me?" Ivy pouted dramatically, making her already full, pouty, lower lip stick out even more._

_"If you two are done, can we make with the escaping with our loot portion of tonight's schedule?" Selina sniped, Harley giggled, and Ivy smirked at her._

_"Fine! Let's go, but I have plans for that one at a later date."_

Selina was uncomfortable. She couldn't remember the last time Kate Kane had been to their home, to the cave, but here the mercenary was now, standing ramrod straight, arms clasped behind her back and feet slightly apart, at 'parade rest.' The commander of the Darknights had done well for herself since the Justice Act, the law that officially outlawed all non-sanctioned super heroics. Batwoman had been mothballed, but Kane had no intention of stopping. She formed the squad from ex-military operatives and now they were one of the most well-trained and efficient Merc outfits, selling their professional services to one of the mega-corps. Darknight had standards, there were certain contracts they wouldn't take, and they never worked for Lexcorp. 

No one with any integrity did. And Lexcorp's Valkyries meant they rarely employed standard merc companies anyway.

Kate and Bruce had a serious falling out during the Atlantean War. The two had barely spoken to one another in the intervening years, but because Kate had been present for the signing of the Armistice, the ceasing of hostilities with the Atlantean royal court, Bruce decided it might be good to have Kate on hand when they contacted King Arthur and Queen Mera. At the moment, there was dead silence in the cave, because Bruce had just spoken out loud what they were doing.

"We're looking for Poison Ivy, Kate. I wanted you here when we speak to Arthur."

Kate's face was carved from stone, her eyes hard chips of glass. She'd disagreed with attacking Ivy at the time, had loudly berated Bruce for the assault at the cave later, and when they'd discovered it'd all been a Riddler ruse, a setup to drive a wedge between the heroes and the beautiful eco-terrorist, she'd punched Bruce so hard he cracked a tooth and she'd warned him she was done. She'd been livid.

There was something between Kate and Ivy. After multiple run-ins with the Daughters of Gotham, working so closely together, she and Ivy had started some sort of relationship--purely physical at first, but Selina knew Ivy well enough to know when she felt something for someone. Still, Ivy'd kept her distance, maybe out of respect for the romance Kate and Renee had, Selina wasn't sure.

"What makes you think Atlantis will even speak to you?" Kate finally asked, avoiding the mention of Ivy.

"I have no guarantee, but it's been over ten years."

"We didn't just crush their military, Bruce. We destroyed their ecosystem. Polluted and defiled their home. I was there, Bruce, when Lex dropped the depth charges. I lost men because he dropped them before we could extract. Acceptable losses, remember? And you sat in this fucking cave and did nothing." She was growling by the time she finished. Old wounds being reopened. He glared as she spoke.

"None of that is relevant to the problem facing us. If you don't want to be here for this conversation, there's the door." He turned back to the batcomputer, dismissing her.

"Oh, you need me here. You've always been a devious asshole, and Arthur doesn't trust you."

Bruce swiveled back around to face her. "And he trusts you? I seem to remember you and your--unit--was there at the city breach killing his men." His contempt was so thick you couldn't have cut it with Katana's sword.

"Right," Kate snapped back, "but we fought honorably. We weren't flinging weapons of mass destruction at them."

"Guys," Selina jumped in, aware of Barbara's eyes as big as saucers at the tension. "This is doing us no good, how about we shelve this for now and focus on helping Lois?"

Kate stared at her, unreadable, before muttering, "Fine. Make the call."

It took several minutes. The special diplomatic line had been set up between the major military powers as a last ditch effort to hold off further hostilities. It took so long, Selina almost decided the Atlanteans didn't want to talk, and then the vid screen lit up.

Arthur looked good. He'd suffered terrible wounds in the war, and the left side of his face was a mass of scars, an eyepatch covering his ruined eye, but otherwise strong and healthy. Mera was beautiful next to him, as regal and lovely as Selina remembered her. Arthur's teenage son stood next to his father, a handsome young man that had his father's cast of features but his mother's fiery hair. His daughter was also in view, a lovely ten year old. All of the Atlanteans looked angry.

"Hello Arthur," Bruce said, his voice measured.

"Bruce."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, I need your help." Selina fought a smirk. Bruce had never been one to beat around the bush.

"What could Atlantis possibly do for you, Wayne?" Arthur was practically gritting his teeth.

"I know this isn't easy. I know we have history. This isn't about me, Arthur. Or us. Or the Justice League. Lois is sick."

"I'm sorry to hear it, but I have--"

"Cancer, Arthur. She has a brain tumor that's killing her--but we think we know someone that can help, we just need to find her."

Arthur was no fool. He leaned back on his throne and considered before saying, "and you think this person is somewhere in the sea and that I might know where she is?"

Bruce nodded. "That's the long and short of it. We won't bother you again, we wouldn't have bothered you this time if it wasn't important."

Arthur sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I'll help if I can, for Lois. She was always a friend to Atlantis. Who are you looking for?"

"Poison Ivy."

There was silence. Finally, Arthur spoke. "I have no knowledge of her. The last I heard she'd escaped from your useless police and disappeared. Given all the destruction you surfacers are guilty of--what happened to Swamp Thing--I can only assume she's dead. It would be a mercy."

Bruce leaned forward, his chair creaking. "Arthur, we tracked her to the west coast of Hawaii. I believe she may be somewhere in the Pacific. If she's out there, we need to find her."

Mera spoke. "Leave her be."

Arthur was as surprised as Selina, and he turned to regard his wife. "If she vanished, I'd wager she desires to stay vanished. Leave her alone."

"You have some knowledge of her, my love?" Arthur asked.

"I do." Mera replied. "I would not have kept it from you, husband, but it was not my secret to tell."

Selina admired them. Arthur took it in stride, turned back to Batman. "You heard her, leave Ivy alone."

"I can't." Bruce leaned back in his chair again. "If she's out there, she might be the only person on this planet able to save Lois."

Mera glared at him. "She came to me years ago, asking a favor. She wanted me to alter the currents around a spot of open ocean. She asked my permission to create an island there. She was respectful and she offered a way of purifying water. I agreed." She looked at Arthur. "Her purifier helped combat the leftover toxins from the war. Without her, we might have all died. The silver kelp."

Arthur took her hand. "Thank you, my love." He turned back to Bruce. "I think you're making a mistake, Wayne...but we will tell you the location."

"Thank you, Arthur, Mera..." Bruce began, but Mera cut him off.

"I wouldn't thank us. She's not what you remember, and you can't help yourself, you'll destroy everything you touch and she'll kill you. Either way, never contact us again. You no longer have that privilege. Sending coordinates now." She punched some numbers on her end, and the screen went dark.

No one spoke.

Bruce opened the message and put in the coordinates. Within seconds a satellite feed was displayed, showing an expanse of sea, a few bare rocks barely breaking the surface of the shallow, dead ocean.

"I don't understand," Kate began. She'd been strangely silent during the call.

"Me either," said Selina. Mera wouldn't lie, though, right?

"I think it's a loop, but it's brilliant work. Give me a moment." Barbara Gordon knew her craft, and in a few moments they were staring at a mass of green. Selina caught her breath. She heard Kate gasp. More green than any of them had seen in years.

Bruce finally managed to ask, "Barbara, what's the scale? How big it it?" Them, actually, Selina mentally amended. There were three islands clumped together.

"It's. My god, it's bigger than the state of Rhode Island. How did she keep it secret?"

Selina didn't reply. She stared at the picture. Somehow she knew...knew it in her bones. Poison Ivy was somewhere in that jungle.

***

She hated Arkham. Hated coming here. Hated seeing Harley Quinn.

For a time, she'd refused. She still had an ache in her hip where the madwoman had stabbed her with a butcher knife, screeching that she was ruining everything. She'd almost died from that wound, not from bleeding, but the filthy knife Harley'd been brandishing was crusted with foulness. The infection almost did her in.

It was easy to blame Harley, but ultimately she'd realized Harley was a victim here. The Joker had just taken her, spent weeks torturing her, getting her addicted to his new designer drug, Smile Time. "Putting the old bird back in her place," as he'd told Batman. He'd always considered Harley his property, and after his little suggestion to Eddie about getting rid of Ivy, he'd reclaimed what was his, laughing at her hope of being a hero.

Harley was a victim, but Bruce wouldn't see her.

She'd been the one to lure Jason close. She'd tasered him. And then she filmed while Joker beat him to death. With a crowbar. Again. Selina could still remember beating Harley unconscious. She'd broken two knuckles on Harley's face--hadn't been able to see from the tears in her eyes, just hitting the gibbering girl over and over.

Harley Quinn had died that day, and she'd been institutionalized for almost two decades now. Medicated. Selina tried to visit every couple of months, out of respect for the friend she'd had before, if nothing else. On good days, Harley might respond with nonsense when she spoke. Bad days she stared at the wall. There were visits where Harley would charge the glass, trying to get out of her straitjacket and biting with her broken, decayed teeth.

Her hair was frizzy and grey, now. Her eyes sunken and haunted, or just blank. There were deep scratch scars on either side of her face, inflicted before they realized she needed to be restrained full time. Her body was lean and emaciated, her Arkham jumper permanently soiled with vomit or blood.

"Hello Harls." She always said it when she first arrived, speaking through the glass to the woman. Harley was lying on her side today, back to the wall staring across the room. Her gaze was unfocused, but she was rocking back and forth.

"Sorry, it's been a while. We get busy sometimes." She tried not to breathe very deeply. Arkham didn't have enough budget for high quality air filters and no one cared about the criminally insane. Selina could smell the sour smell in the air, and she often considered wearing her rebreather even though she was supposedly inside in filtered air.

Harley didn't respond. Selina was used to it.

"So, the big news is...well, Lois is very sick. So to save her, we've found Ivy. We're gonna go talk to Pam." 

Harley froze. Harley LOOKED at her.

"...Iveeey?" Her voice was scratchy from disuse--an old woman's voice. Selina's heart skipped. It was the most lucid thing Harley had said or done in over fifteen years, and for a moment she just stared.

"That's right, Harley. Ivy, we're gonna see Ivy. Do you remember Ivy?"

Harley's eyes were more focused than she'd ever seen them. Haunted. Big tears were forming in them, and Harley answered in a whisper. "I hurt her, kitty. I hurt her heart."

Then she went berzerk. Fury blazed in her eyes, and she was suddenly charging the glass. She was screaming "Batman's fault! Batman's fault!" over and over, slamming face first. Orderlies rushed in, struggling with her, and Selina backed away, trying not to cry herself. Harley remembered.

What if her friend wasn't dead after all? What if she was trapped?

What if Lois wasn't the only person Ivy could save?


	4. Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate sees a pretty lady
> 
> The team meets the locals
> 
> Can paradise remain if it's public?

_“Come on, Red. You can’t wiggle yer way outta this.”_

_“Seriously, we had to take a turn.”_

_“Oh, I’m well aware. I doubt I’ll ever be able to hear ‘I will Always Love You’ again without having nightmares of your turn, Selina.”_

_“No more excuses. Ya gotta go. GO!”_

_With a belabored, long suffering sigh, Poison Ivy stood, tossed back the remains of her Long Island Iced Tea, and resolutely trudged up to the stage, like a man being marched to his own gallows, like Christ bowed under the weight of the cross on His way to that infamous hill._

_Pam was SUCH a drama queen._

_Selina grinned and called for another round, and Harley was practically bouncing in her seat. They were out on the town, celebrating a wildly successful heist. A blow had been struck that night for the rain forest--to the tune of a bag full of priceless jewelry and a sack of actual cash, and if the Sirens made a little payday on the side by liberating a painting of Jeremiah Vreeland—yes THAT Vreeland, a Gotham town founder and adventurer of renown in 18th century New England—that was valued at several hundred million, that was good, too. Her buyer had already made the down payment. It was as good as done._

_Wiggle was a good word. Ivy was wearing a green sheath dress so tight she couldn’t do much more than that as she shimmied her way through the crowd, drawing appreciative stares from everyone. She grinned at Harley, who looked good herself in fishnets and hot pants, but she was healthy. No sign of the drugs or beatings, staying with her—staying with Pam—had worked miracles on the little clown girl—not that her new image had much to do with clowns. Ivy’d coined it ‘colorful scene’ and Selina agreed, Harley looked fun rather than crazy and desperate, and she was genuinely excited to be out and having said fun, even if Pam was her infamously grumpy self._

_Selina smiled as Pam fumbled with the screen on stage, searching for a song to sing. Hell, even grumpy Pam was smiling and happy tonight—willing to endure Karaoke. She’d been bobbing her head to Harley’s pop mix in the car on the way over she was so giddy, which for Pam was practically mosh pitting. The look on Bruce Wayne’s face as Harley’d taken off his Rolex and Ivy’d thanked him for his contribution to saving the planet—all while she was filming with her phone—was priceless._

_Then they uploaded the looting video to MeTube._

_Two hundred thousand views and counting. They were viral._

_“JUST PICK SOMETHIN’!” Harley yelled at the stage and people cheered. There’d been wolf whistles when Pam had climbed the stage, which earned glares, but finally, she selected something and walked up to the microphone. More whistles. Some guy yelled out, asking for her number._

_The song started, and when Ivy sang, her voice was soft and husky, deep and breathy, turning a mellow thing into something altogether erotic, and suddenly everyone quieted to just listen…_

Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take ya

Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama

Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go…

_“Well played,” Selina called out, and the whole bar was singing along. Selina couldn’t stop smiling. Later, maybe, she’d go rooftop running and let Bruce chase her…_

_Ivy beckoned Harley up to the stage, and the girl made a ridiculously cute squee sound and ran up. The rest of the song Ivy sang directly to her, looking into her eyes…_

Everybody knows

A little place like Kokomo

Now if you wanna go

And get away from it all

Go down to Kokomo

_She pulled Harley close, and when the final verse was winding down, drew her into a kiss. The bar erupted, lots of rude things called out by drunk patrons, and Ivy responded by flipping the audience the bird and continuing to kiss Harley…_

***

She was the most beautiful thing Kate had ever seen.

Absolutely stunning, and if Kate hadn’t been wearing a dive mask she knew she’d have been crying, full on ugly crying, and she wouldn’t feel any shame about those tears.

Kate was a couple of fathoms under the surface, maybe a hundred yards from the boat, and in shallows no more than than ten fathoms deep. Around her, the ocean was gorgeous, pristine blue, and schools of fish in all the colors of the rainbow were fanned out in every direction as they cruised over the healthiest reef Kate had seen in decades. The beautiful creature swam slowly, directly in front of Kate.

A great white shark. _Carcharodon carcharias._

They were extinct, or supposed to be, but there she was, sixteen feet from the tip of her conical nose to her crescent shaped caudal fin. She was a dark bluish grey on top and ghastly pale on her underside, and she was scarred, especially around her dorsal fin. Bite marks from one of many lovers, and Kate thrilled at the idea that this beautiful lady might actually be pregnant. Baby great whites swimming the ocean again. That was…it made her, again, want to take her mask off and have a good cry.

The shark was cruising just under the surface, completely relaxed. She wasn’t hunting at the moment, and Kate didn’t feel any fear as she drifted by, but she could feel the rush of displaced water as the huge animal swept past her.

_She’s seventeen hundred pounds if she’s an ounce,_ Kate thought, a little thrill shooting through her, and she floated just close enough to brush her fingertips down the sleek hide of the shark as she passed.

Then she was gone, and Kate had to compose herself before working her way back to the boat.

The Barracuda was long and narrow, like her namesake, and she was cutting a slow path through the waves. Kate climbed aboard with practiced ease, pulling her mask off. She was grinning. 

Kate still couldn’t believe the fortune of finding working SCUBA gear on the research vessel. Bruce’d gotten the drydocked ship prepped for them once they made the decision to seek Ivy, and she’d spent the last couple of days inventorying the mothballed gear in the hold. 

It was a bright day, but the sun didn’t seem as brutally hot as home, as though the nonexistent ozone lair was back, but that’s the way it felt to her.

It was so nice, Steph was on the front deck in a bikini, actually tanning, like girls used to do, before a day in the unfiltered sun meant skin cancer. She was still dripping as she began unzipping her wet suit when she saw Babs coming close.

Barbara walked on a cane these days. The device that fused her spine had failed a few years ago, and the Lexcorp brand knockoff had to be ‘rented,’ rather than bought. It never worked as well as that original prototype and came with an exorbitant yearly fee. Babs had given up Batgirl years ago, and Cass had died in the suit, and with the ban on vigilantism, it seemed prudent to retire Batgirl permanently.

“Barbara, I can’t believe it, I’m still in shock, but you’ll never guess what I saw down there!”

Barbara had a strange look on her face. “I’ve been monitoring the equipment. Kate, we’re cruising over the cleanest water on the planet. The depth finder is going insane with all the marine life. I saw something big—”

“A Great. White. Shark. Babs…a female. Beautiful animal. They’re not extinct.”

Babs laughed nervously. “Well, extinction doesn’t seem to mean much now…we’re just a hundred miles or so from the island and, I don’t know, it’ll be easier to just show you.” Kate started to question, but Babs snatched her hand and began leading her to the rear of the boat.

“Barbara, what are you on about? What’s—” She didn’t finish. She couldn’t. She could only stare.

The little creature alighted on a corner of the stern, drifting carefully with its wings spread and catching the clean, cool breezes washing over them all. Its body was no bigger than her hand, wings maybe four feet from tip to tip. It had a small, wriggling fish in its mouth, and once it caught and gripped with its hind claws, it held its wings out for balance, like a pelican, while it swallowed its meal down. It was a pale green, one that faded to a lighter green on its belly. Its wings weren’t skin or hide, but they weren’t covered in feathers, either. They looked like leaves.

Kate mumbled, “Is that--?”

_“Pterodactylus antiquus_ if I had to guess,” Bruce said, coming up behind them. “or at least, that was the base organism. I think Ivy’s been busy.”

The Pterodactyl regarded them solemnly, and then chirped and dove off, riding the wind away from them with slow flaps of its leafy wings.

***

Selina woke with a start.

She was in bed, the ship anchored in shallow water, and had been sleeping relatively hard. For the last few days, as they approached the island, it was like the world had come alive, and even now they could hear whale song.

Actual whale song!

She washed her face and pulled on her bathing suit—a very chic but low key black one piece—and slipped sandals on before making her way up on deck, hoping to find Bruce.

Everyone was excited, there was a lot of energy on the vessel. The hatch was open and it was dark, but overhead they could see a starfield that was so breathtaking she had to pause and stare. 

“Ok, how is she getting everything so CLEAN?” Selina asked as she arrived on deck. Bruce slipped an arm around her shoulders and offered a kiss. Everyone was up, enjoying the chance to breathe clean air without a mask or rebreather.

“Look out over the water,” Bruce said, and she did. 

It was dark, the waves were lazily lapping the boat, and seemed peaceful enough, but as she looked closer, she realized she could see a…glow…for lack of a better word, coming off of it. Sparkles in the water in blues, greens, and purples. It lit everything with an eerie radiance.

“We’re not sure, but I think Ivy’s been seeding the whole environment with defensive biological organisms. Testing the air and water, we’ve come across several microorganisms and strains of pollen that don’t match anything in our database.”

Selina nodded, still staring, “it stands to reason. Pam never just sat on her ass. If she wasn’t actively working toward something, she’d start experimenting. ‘Thought experiments,’ she called them. She’d try to do something just to see if she could. ‘Proof of Concept,’ when she got something right.”

“It’s impressive. There’s a pollen in the air floating all around us. Completely harmless, but it has a slight electromagnetic charge. It pulls particulates to itself, and once enough stick to it to make it heavy, it sinks to the water. The water is full of this unidentified microorganism. Again, completely harmless, but it seems to consume carbons, like plastics. Eats them, then lets off excess energy as luminescence. It’s fascinating. She’s creating a self-cleaning, self-sustained ecosystem.”

Barbara chimed in. “Those plastic eaters are amazing. We think the big animals, like whales and sharks, are eating them and then they clean the plastic out of their systems. It’s why everything is so healthy.”

Selina grinned. “She’s still saving the world, I guess.”

Bruce’s smile faded. “Well, we’ll soon find out for sure. We reach the island tomorrow.”

***

The Barracuda drifted gently in the shallow water. Over the morning they’d crossed over what was easily the largest, healthiest, living reef in the world. It would’ve challenged the Great Barrier reef back before it died off for supremacy. Here, the water was so crystal clear they could see formations below, and before them was the largest of the three islands. 

A white sandy beach was bright in the sun, and a thick, heavy jungle beyond it promised thousands of acres of life. It was a thing unheard of these days.

They’d chosen to visit the largest island because satellite scans had shown human activity, fires and structures, along the southwestern edge. The other islands showed the heat signatures of a massive amount of animal life but no signs of human occupation. 

At any rate, they could see a series of huts along the shore, built against and in some cases into a bluff that overlooked the ocean there. Through binoculars, they could see people moving about, and now, as they drifted, a small canoe was coming toward them.

It was a simple one, built with an outrigger like the classic image of Polynesian canoes pop culture had handed down, and there were two passengers. Bruce, Selina, Barbara, and Kate waited patiently as they approached.

They could see, at a distance, others were out on the waves as well, presumably fishing, each little boat with two or more passengers, and there were several boats. Babs was starting to wonder just how many people were in this little colony.

“Ahoy there!” The man was waving as the little boat approached their vessel, standing and balanced on the slender canoe with practiced ease. He was tall and lean, skin sun darkened. He wore only a pair of board shorts and several strings of necklaces. He was...hot. Babs smiled to herself, thinking _you’re married, not dead, Barbara._ He reminded her of Dick--broad shoulders, narrow waist, lean and strong looking. She could count his abs. There were a couple of old scars on his left side. His hair was multi braided, pulled back in a braid ponytail, and he had an easy, sexy smile that showed his white teeth off. He was in his mid twenties to early thirties, if she had to guess.

The girl was beautiful. Still seated, but obviously comfortable on their canoe, she was part African American and slender as a willow, tall, with her hair in graceful dreadlocks and with big, gorgeous grey eyes that looked almost silver. She was captivating. She wore a simple shapeless dress that hung from one lithe shoulder and fell to mid thigh, and lots of jewelry--bracelets, rings, necklaces, earrings. She was smiling as well.

Bruce answered back, moving quickly to set the ladder. “Ahoy, welcome aboard.” As nimble as a monkey the man clambered up, then turned to gently help up the young woman. He was tall enough to almost look Bruce in the eyes.

“So,” he said, “Welcome. She knew you’d come, eventually, so we’ve known this day was coming for a while. I had this whole speech prepared, but honestly, can’t remember it.”

“Are you the leader of this community?” Bruce started, which caused the man’s face to split into a grin.

“Ok, first off, nah. We don’t have leaders, Mr. Wayne. I’m Max. I’m just a fisherman. This is Crescent. She’s a priestess, and I’m just here to escort her out to talk to you. She’s the one with the message.”

Babs frowned. _Priestess? Surely they don’t actually worship Ivy like a Goddess?_

The woman, Crescent, spoke up. “Welcome. We call our little home Eden, and yeah, that name means something. It’s paradise, thanks to her.” She had a definite Gotham accent, while the man sounded a bit like a surfer dude. 

Bruce spoke up. “Where is Poison Ivy, we’d like to speak to her?” Their smiles faded.

The man, Max, answered, “She ain’t the one who’s poison, bro. You and your kind are.” The girl, Crescent, laid a hand on his arm to calm him.

“First of all, we know her as Ivy. Some of us call her the Goddess, but that’s not a name she asked us to call her. She gave us this place, this paradise, and all she asks in return is for us to respect it and to leave her alone.”

“I...didn’t mean to give offense,” Bruce started.

“We’re a little defensive, dude. Most of us remember what a shithole Gotham was, and how much better our lives are now, all thanks to the woman you used to punch in the face and throw into the asylum.”

There was silence. Babs supposed she shouldn’t be surprised they knew. Ivy would’ve told them, presumably, but it was still unusual to deal with people who knew the secret.

“We know,” Crescent said, her voice quiet. “At any rate, you are welcome here, and you may all anchor and come ashore as our guests. She lives on the far side of the island chain, on the smallest one, we call the Grove. She will only see you two at a time and she will see you two,” and here she indicated Selina and Barbara, “first. We only have two rules here. We don’t raise hands to each other. No violence is tolerated. And we stay on this Island. It’s the safe one. Unless invited. You’ll spend the night with us and in the morning, a priestess will escort you to her. If this is acceptable to you, then please, come ashore.”

They were subdued as they anchored and then climbed aboard a small motorboat to head to the sandy beach Max and Crescent were leading them to. Kate helped her out as Bruce and Selina pulled the boat on shore and was a steady presence at her side as she navigated the thick, wet sand on her cane. 

The camp was fascinating--a mix of old and new. There were children playing everywhere, chasing each other, screaming and running in every direction. Some stopped to stare at them with big eyes, but for the most part ignoring them. There were babies, mostly hanging in cloth slings from their mothers’ shoulders, and old people lounging in hammocks or on reed mats in the shade. There was a rocky bluff maybe fifty yards from shore, and she could see permanent stone dwellings hollowed out of it, but there were more temporary tents made from bone and leather and hide closer to the water’s edge. Drying fish on racks, cook fires, stretched hides being cured. It reminded Babs of pictures of indigenous villages from her Anthropology class--clearly they’d been learning and mastering skills all but forgotten in the outside world, but Babs spotted tablet computers and Lextooth connected earpieces here and there. 

Max peeled off to go to his boat, but Crescent led them to a small circle of tents with an unlit cookfire. “This will be your camp tonight. There’s a pile of wood on the outer circle near the latrines. Do not go cut any wood.” She gave them a level look, and then continued. “One of us will be by to help you with the fire and your meal in a while. In the meantime, Here are your sleeping mats,” and she indicated several woven reed mats with piles of furs. “it gets chilly at night, you might want to double up for warmth. You’re welcome to move throughout the camp, but please don’t enter the forest without an escort. There’s nothing too dangerous here, on Eden, but the compys will bite if you handle them, no matter how cute they are.”

As Crescent turned to leave, Selina glanced her direction. “Compys?”

Bruce had set his duffel down and was rummaging in it. I thought I spotted one earlier at the treeline. Possibly _Compsognathus longipes_ or something very much like it...small, chicken sized dinosaurs. I’m not sure how Ivy is doing this, but I’d love to know.”

Kate had been very quiet since her encounter with the Great White,but she replied, “It’s like she’s creating her own ecosystem from the ground up. I wonder why she chose to create pterodactyls and little dinosaurs?”

“Challenge, I’d guess,” Selina said. “She was always challenging herself. I think she’d get frustrated with how easy everything was for her.”

Bruce nodded. “I think she’s had twenty years with not much else to do. There’s no telling what scientific breakthroughs she’s had.”

Babs replied, “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Here’s hoping she’s had the one we need,” Selina supplied, darkly.

***

Watching the little village was a treat, and Babs found a comfortable spot to sit and observe. As men and women returned from the boats or the woods, they were met with laughing children or excited dogs. The men and women who’d stayed behind in the village (and some, she noted, were clearly non-binary) met their returning partners with laughter and kisses. There were many same sex couples, and that was shocking enough she stole a glance at Kate, who was watching it unfold with intensity. Part of Lex’s takeover was a two-pronged ‘God and Country’ message, and he’d been genius enough to use the established infrastructure of churches to distribute those early Lex-Meal bars that had kept whole communities from starving as crops failed, droughts set in, and the ranks of foreign refugees swelled into the millions. Family values and America First were the watch words--Love the Sinner, hate the sin the rule of the day. There was no room for homosexuality or other ‘deviant behavior,’ and in the last decade, as birth rates began to drop off drastically, new laws about women being required to submit to pregnancy were getting discussed. Babs suspected it wouldn’t be long…

As the day began to wane and the shadows grew long, the fires were lit and the smell of cooking food filled the air. Music--drumming and flutes, guitars, even a violin started up, and Babs got the distinct impression they weren’t putting on a show for their benefit, this was every night. She noted Bruce and Selina sitting together, a thick fur thrown over their shoulders, Selina leaning her head on Bruce’s broad shoulder. A pretty girl with blonde curls came around, serving them a bowl of hearty stew--carrots, potatoes, mushrooms, and chunks of meat that tasted like beef, and a platter of smoked fish. She didn’t know for sure, what kind, but she’d seen the teeming nets earlier that day and knew the reef around the islands was packed with a thousand different species. She also been given a mug of fresh coconut milk. It was chilled, and Babs wasn’t entirely sure how it was so cold--she hadn’t seen any sort of refrigerator--but it was sweet and delicious and helped cool her tongue from the spicy stew.

Babs got up to stretch and slowly wandered through the camp, catching snippets of conversation, only some of it in English. Spanish, Korean, French, Arabic, Hebrew. The people here were varied, and the children seemed to flit from fire to fire with impunity. 

There was dancing. Most of it was very freestyle, cavorting around the fires, but some of it was more formal belly dance, and at least one fire looked like traditional Romani dancing, which made her think of Dick.

She missed him. His bright, easy laugh, his quick wit and terrible puns. She tried not to think about him these days, what had been done to him, what had been done to the Titans.

Kate joined her, and they wandered in solidarity for a bit before she spoke.

“They all seem so happy,” the mercenary said quietly.

“I haven’t seen anyone this happy in years.”

“Those at home don’t have a reason to be.” Kate paused, and Babs could see her gazing at two women near the closest fire, sharing a blanket and giggles as they sat close. “Barbara, I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“How do you mean?”

“Look at these people. They live like this because they’ve been hidden.” Kate sighed. “We’ve exposed them.”

“Right, but it’s just us. We’ll get our help and go. We’re not going to ruin this for them.”

Kate turned to look her in the eyes. “Bruce ruins everything he touches. He always has. Him coming here? He’s doom to them.”

“You don’t really believe that--” Babs started, but Kate was already moving away, back stiff.

Eventually the music died down, people bedded down for the evening, and Babs lay near the dying fire, staring up at an unbelievable starfield. The air was chilly, but fresh and crisp. It was so clean it felt strange to her. The gentle sound of the sea lulled her, and when she glanced out, she could see that eerily beautiful luminescence as far as the eye could see. There was a knot of anxiety in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Ivy had threatened to kill them if she ever saw them again.

She wasn’t ready to die. And yet, at the same time, she was anxious to see the beautiful architect of this paradise...


End file.
